I started playing Werewolves: The Apocalypse with some friends online, it is me (a kitsune medical assassin) and Regal(a giant simba bastet)and we are infiltrating a pentex facility for video proof to stop a gang war between the local glasswalkers and vampires. We are caught as we find the video by 4 black spiral dancer Guards, one in Crinos(Goltragg) and the other 3 Guards wielding m16s with silver bullets, during the battle, this happens
DM: Okay, Goltragg(big Boss for encounter) is prone and injured on his back after being thrown to the ground and being stabbed in the chest, now its the first Guards turn to attack. His gun is pointed at you Ren(Me) since you are the one driving said knife into him. *Rolls to hit, -3 Successes* Oh my
Me OOC: Oh shit
Dm: Okay… The guard fires his gun, the shot misses and hits the ceiling, but he also drops his gun, being startled by the gun fire. The gun hits the floor on the butt and the fires upwards, all 3 bullets fired hit the guard in head and instantly kill him, despite how heavily armor he is.
Everyone OOC: *laughing uncontrollably *
Me: He’s worse than the stormtrooper from the holiday special!
shiro falls out of the ceiling tiles and into allura’s arms, along with 15 armed rebels and a couple of vegetables from earth. the entire episode is just him screaming, allura screaming, the paladins screaming, and the black lion kicking them all out. they never really figure out how exactly shiro got into the ceiling tiles but shiro says it has something to do with the vegtables.
the reunion episode between matt holt and shiro is just a complicationed dance routine with sam and pidge looking on in a mixture of shame and contempt. it has been months since they last saw each other. how do they know this. the entire dance is just the whole episode.
lotor is just a tiny alien in a huge mech suit, and once the paladins figure that out they put him in a glass jar and now hes a decortive item in the castle. the joke is that youre supposed to move it every time you see him to freak out someone. this ends badly as keith once woke up with it shoved down his shirt, and all of lance’s creams got replaced by several bad duplications of the jar. pidge is a master at this game as they can crawl through vents and place the jar of screaming prince lotor anywhere undetetced.
shiro’s makeup bag gets replaced by alien substances and winds up geting posioned because he used some crushed berries as eyeliner, and the episode is him runnin though the castle, arm activated and destroying a couple of walls looking for his damned eyeliner. allura helps.
hunk and pidge are working on shiros arm (which needed maintenance or something) and they discover it can be turned into any body part. they accidently turn it into a foot and cant change it back so its just shiro walking around the castle like normal only its a foot.
the cow, which had wandered off on its own in the castle, gets an entire episode thats just from the cow’s point of view. it raids the kitchen at night and loves the food goo. it crawls though the vents and often scares the heck out of pidge. it has a collection of stuff it stole, like several of keiths knifes, lances moisturizer, a rolling stones album, several pens and socks, an entire altean ballgown, and coran’s ponytail bands. prince lotor in a jar eventually winds up in it but no one cares.
lance does DOFA deez nuts on allura at least once. the episode consists of pidge and lance memeing the other paladins.
at one point someone adopts an alien cat. it hates hunk but loves keith. keith hates it and hunk loves it.
“every time you kill zarkon, theres a tinier zarkon that you can kill eaiser behind it. after you kill the last one, you become a god.” “lance put the redbull coffee down and put your shirt back on before i throw you into the pool.”
hunk swears, and everyone just stares. they suspect that hes a galra in disguise and try to anbush him while hes making cookies.
the paladins get into another time loop only when they get out of it, shiro and matt are 10 year olds, hunk lance and keith are maybe 4, and pidge is an infant. the episode is just allura, coran, and samuel holt just taking care of the children with their giant robot cats that also seemed to revert to kittens. lotor in a jar makes an appearence but its just him screaming for a couple minutes.
Real ayato: actually thinks, superiority complex, arrogant but caring. Loves female ….uh that.
Fandom laito: pervert.
Real laito: pervert.
Fandom kanato: bipolar kid, love of life teddy, hate on everyone, raw salt, house of wax. DoLLs.
Real ka- who am i kidding he is that way.
Fandom subaru: tsunbunny, nice, cinnamon roll, a car and a bunny, anger managment problem anD WALL- CHAN. 🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🌻🌻🌸🌸
Real subaru: heavy meTAL BROKE MY *FLIPS WALLS* HEART. ⚡⚡⚡
Fandom ruki: 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit. Christian grey.
Real ruki: nERD. Mom friend. Old man soul. Soup. I will make you proud father.📖👔🎓.
Fandom kou: two faced mean neko loving idol boy. Tinkerbell.
“I say we float him!” A boy’s voice rang throughout the crowd, and was soon follow by murmurs and then shouts of agreement.
The situation was quickly getting out of control, and everyone was turning on Murphy. He was yelling at the crowd at this point, shouting and raising his fists into the air claiming he was innocent, and all of this was “bullshit”.
But the crowd gave him no remorse, they were viscous. And the first blow landed when Murphy tried to run away, and he was immediately tripped by a raven haired boy to his left.
When he hit the ground it all happened so fast you weren’t sure what you were seeing, just a boy on the ground and a mob gone wild. Clarke screamed the entire time, yelling about how floating wasn’t what she meant and everyone needed to stop, but it was too late- the damage was already done.
Throughout the chaos, someone managed to bind and gag Murphy with a red seatbelt from the dropship. He was still on the ground and the crowd had descended upon him, kicking and punching blindly until they hit their target. You tried to stop it, you yelled until your throat was hoarse, but nobody listened.
The crowd had gone insane, and in the chaos people were being trampled onto the ground alongside Murphy- it was as if nobody cared who they were hitting, as long as they were hitting something. About thirty seconds into the riot, Murphy was kicked and pushed about 20 feet to the nearest tree- and that was when the same raven haired boy from before made a noose out of old cord-wire.
DON’T take a tourist gondola ride in Venice unless you’re prepared to pay EURO 80-100 per gondola for a 40 min ride. These are official rates so don’t get taken for a ride by shady gondoliers who charge random prices. On a budget, try hopping a Traghetto, one of the water taxis used by locals to cross the Canale Grande. The ride will be shorter, but the boats are similar except that tickets will cost around 5 EURO.
DON’T expect the “Italian” food served in other countries to actually be served in Italy. Italian food is VERY regional. It’s also seasonal. Try local specialties, e.g. Genoa for pesto; Naples for pizza; Bologna for Bolognese sauce and filled pastas like ravioli, tortellini, lasagna; Milan for risotto and Ossobucco alla Milanese; Rome for Spaghetti alla Carbonara, Spaghetti all'amatriciana, and lamb. Gnocchi, bresaola, polenta dishes, and Tiramisù are found all over the country, but they’re native to North Italian regions like Lombardy and the Veneto. Prosciutto/Parma ham is most commonly associated with central and northern Italy. Oh and Americans, NO PEPPERONI PIZZA (lol).
DON’T tip, no matter what they tell you abroad. Tipping is not obligatory or common in Italy and can be an insult. However, tourist-savvy service people may have heard that other nationalities (especially Americans!) are genetically programmed to tip everything from waiters to performing rabbits, so the cheekier ones might try to work you for some spare change. Unless they gave you the best service in the history of the planet, resist. People earn a living wage so there’s absolutely no need to tip.
DON’T ask your waiter for Parmesan to put on your seafood pasta unless you want to see a grown man cry. One of the holiest commandments of traditional Italian culinary etiquette is that cheese and seafood never, ever mix. Only very recently have certain cheese/seafood pairings cropped up - i.e. ricotta with sea bass, gorgonzola with clams - but this is considered very avantgarde;a purist won’t touch such dishes. Also, for the love of Saint Peter, don’t let an Italian see you cutting spaghetti with a fork and knife or roll it on a spoon.
Dean could hear you walking into the library, but kept his eyes on the screen. Everything was stressing him out, and it was just one thing after another. Hell, sometimes he couldn’t even figure out what was bothering him. Glancing at the burger, he quickly went back to work. “You use the mustard I like?” He asked. There were very few things in the bunker that didn’t wind up being shared- his mustard being one of them. After Sam had used the last of it, that was it.
“Yup!” You sounded happy about that, making the corner of his mouth move slightly.
Licking his lips, he went on. “Not bloody, right?” He liked his burgers medium-rare, not like he was a damn vampire again drinking blood.
He saw you shake your head from the corner of his eye. “No, I’ve gotten pretty good at that. I’ve worked it out to timing it perfectly.” Dean had to admit, that was true. The first time you’d cooked him a burger, he wound up basically hosting a cooking lesson just for you. He thought it was cute how intently you listened to him. “Seasoned the burger with salt and pepper while it cooked, as well.” That he taught you by making two pieces of chicken. One seasoned, one not. You tasted both and it hit you what a difference it made.
Dean picked up his burger, his mouth watering, and took a bite. “Awe, come on.” He groaned, getting up to walk past you, chewing his bite quickly. “Barely any mustard, none of my damn pickles, and could have been cooked a couple minutes longer.” Honestly, he really didn’t care all that much, but with everything else- he blew it out of proportion.
summary: when the winchesters thought they had stopped all kinds of apocalypses happen, hell strikes again with a zombie apocalypse and they find themselves separated from you. you get taken in by rick and his people and find yourself slowly falling for the archer (i suck at summaries) pairing: sam winchester x sister!reader, dean winchester x sister!reader, castiel x friend!reader, possible (definite) daryl x reader characters: You, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Glenn Rhee, Maggie Greene/Rhee, Michonne, Beth Greene, Hershel Greene, Carol Peletier word count: about 3.3k
sorry if there are any mistakes!!! I’m still working on further parts but I hope I can continue this fic for as long as possible
It was a beautiful day in Georgia. Some birds were
chirping, the sun was shining – it would’ve been calm – if it weren’t for the
black Chevrolet Impala speeding down the road. The loud roar of the engine was
attracting a lot of walkers from the woods, something the four people in the
car didn’t quite notice. The car was Dean Winchester’s one and only, you could
say he almost loved it more than he loved his family. How the car made it
through the apocalypse, you didn’t know, but Dean sure was glad that they had
a car to get them from point A to point B. You were seated in the
backseat of the car, a thud made you turn around.
“Uh, Dean… You might wanna see this.” You said and
tapped your brother on the shoulder. His gaze shifted to the rearview mirror and
he groaned loudly. Sam Winchester, sat shotgun next to Dean, turned his whole
body around to take a look at what’s happening.
“I remember you guys always saying that zombies did
not exist.” Castiel said, his voice as deep as always. You gnawed on your
bottom lip and turned back around.
“Yeah, that’s what we thought but this is straight
outta the damn Dawn of the Dead movie.” Dean grumbled. Sam and you scoffed
at this but Cas had no idea what you were talking about. Of course he didn’t,
there were no movies to see in heaven and even here on earth, Castiel never had
a chance to see many, let alone movies about zombies.
“You know… it’s a good thing, though.” You said.
Dean slammed on the brakes, causing everyone to fly forward in their seats and
he turned around to stare at you in utter confusion. Sam slowly turned
and gave you the same look.
“How is that a good thing?” He asked, a little angry
at his little sister. Castiel kept quiet and just listened to the conversation.
You rolled your eyes and leaned forward over the front seat. You looked at
Dean, then at Sam and rolled your eyes once again at the looks you received.
“Don’t you look at me like that!” You warned, pointing
your index finger at them both, “Those things can be killed with anything, other
than the monster we’re used to. And it seems like every other monster has
either been turned into one of those sons of bitches of has been eaten by them.
So those rotting things out there are the only thing we gotta take care of for
Dean looked at his phone as it chimed. “Excuse me,” he said, turning away from the scantily-clad grad-school waitress.
The message was from Sam—an address.
Dean placed some cash on the table and went out to the Impala. He thought about calling you, but he figured Sam had also messaged you. After all, the two of you were closer than Dean and you.
Pulling up to the address, Dean found a church before him. Strange, but not unusual for Vegas or the Winchesters. He glanced around before slipping into his suit. Hand on his gun, Dean entered the church.
“Dean!” Sam approached him, pulling the gun from Dean’s hand. “Come on.” Sam pulled his brother down the aisle and placed him at the front of the room.
“What’s going on?” Dean asked, looking at the two other people seated in the chapel. Were they demons? And where were you?
Sam said nothing as he pinned a flower to Dean’s jacket.
“Pink is for loyalty,” Sam said.
While that answer didn’t really tell Dean anything, he moved past it. Every fiber of his being was on high-alert. “So, what? We’re wedding crashers? Looking for a siren?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.” Sam shifted slightly. “Um… okay, a little sudden, but life is short, so I’ll keep this shorter. I’m in love. And I’m getting married.”
This surprised Dean. Sure, he knew you and Sam were in a nice relationship and the two of you truly cared for each other. But marriage? Really?
“Say something,” Sam said. “Like… congratulations?”
At that moment the horrible synthesizer started playing the opening chords of the wedding march. Sam and Dean turned their attention to the doors. A figure in a large white wedding dress stood, an even larger white veil covering their face.
Dean couldn’t help but think that you looked kind of pretty in the dress (though he did wonder where you got it from… it looked expensive). Glancing up at Sam, he saw his brother’s face light up with a huge smile.
Maybe this was for the best.
You approached the two and Sam carefully lifted the veil. Dean couldn’t help but think that something was… off.
Off it was.
When the veil was lifted, it wasn’t your face Dean saw under it.
“Becky?” he asked, incredibly confused.
The wedding was typical Vegas style—fast. Dean was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening and missed his opportunity to declare a reason as to why these two should not be married. He stood, dumbfounded, as Becky and Sam kissed, solidifying the marriage.
Dean watched as they took two chairs, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. The only thing Dean could think of was where were you?!
Dean tried to think of a question to ask the ‘happy’ couple. Words were tumbling around in his mind. “What the hell happened?” he finally said. “How did this happen?”
“We met… talked… fell in love,” Sam said with a smile.
“Right. Of course. What about Y/N?”
“What about her?”
‘Not good,’ Dean thought. He wondered if the two of you had had a fight he didn’t know about. But even if that was the case, Sam looked completely sober. This wasn’t a drunken mistake. “Forget it. What about the average lifespan of your hookups?”
“That’s why I’m the best choice!” Becky said. “I know all about it. I’ve read all the books.”
Dean sighed. He’d almost forgotten about those damn books Chuck had written. But books didn’t mean anything compared to the actual time you’d spent with Sam. You knew more about his life than Becky. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Dean,” Sam chided.
“Look, did you at least–”
“He checked,” Becky interrupted (Dean was really starting to hate that). “Salt, holy water, everything. I’m not a monster.” She held out her arm, showing a fresh scab over a knife wound on her arm. “Just the right girl for your brother.”
To keep you occupied, Dean had you searching for cases. You stumbled upon a streak of people who had big breaks whose bodies then broke (via truck and baseball fast pitch). Dean swung by a store and picked up the first household item he found before the two of you drove off.
Sam answered the door. “Dean?”
“I’m trying to be supportive,” Dean said, holding the waffle iron out. “So… we good?”
“Uh… yeah, sure.” Sam looked behind Dean. “Y/N?”
You said nothing, just narrowed your eyes.
“Look,” Dean said, pushing past his brother. “We found a case. Guys who get a sudden turn of good luck then get killed. We’re thinking–”
“Could be a cursed object,” Becky said. Sam brushed past his brother into the back room where Becky stood pacing, a board of news articles and maps and pictures behind her.
“You’re… working the case with her?” Dean asked incredulously. He heard you growl behind him, but Dean held you back, keeping you behind him. As hot as girl fights could be, and as much as he wanted to see you pummel Becky, now was not the time.
Becky also apparently heard your growl as the smallest wave of fear crossed her face. “I don’t know why you’re so against this, Dean. Can’t you believe that we’re happy?”
“No! People’s dreams are coming true.” Dean turned to his brother, hitching a thumb toward Becky. “Doesn’t this seem a little coincidental?”
“What Becky and I have is real,” Sam said. “And if you can’t accept that… either of you,” he noted, looking at you. “That’s your problem. Not ours.”
“I went after her, Dean. Maybe that’s what’s bugging you. That I’m moving on. I don’t need you anymore in my life. That I–”
Before Dean could stop you, you ran forward, landing a solid punch to Sam’s nose. You stood there, seething, while everyone else just stared in horror. Then you brushed past Dean and headed outside.
“Nice,” Dean said, turning to follow you. “Just remember Sam. We’ve been here a lot longer than her.”
You watched as Sam signed his name on the annulment papers before sliding them to Becky. She looked up with sad eyes.
“It wasn’t all bad, right?”
You let out another growl, but Sam held his hand up to you. The two of you still had a lot to work on (you weren’t blaming him for being put under a love spell, but you still held a little resentment and hurt… rightly so. And he still remembered the connection your fist had made with his nose) but you still held back at his signal.
“You did… save my life,” Sam said. “So for that… thanks.”
“So I’ll see you again?” Becky asked, hopefully.
“Probably not,” Sam said over you.
Becky’s shoulders sank, but she reached forward and signed the document.
The Winchesters headed out, but Becky stopped you. “Y/N… can I talk to you for a second?”
The brothers looked as if they wanted to stay. They didn’t know if they could trust you alone with Becky.
Dean stepped over to you, holding his hand out. Sighing, you put your gun in his grasp.
“And the knife.”
With a roll of your eyes, you handed over your knife. Once the brothers left, you turned back to Becky.
“Listen… I just… I hope you aren’t too mad at me…”
“Becky, you can’t expect me to be okay with what you did.”
“I know. It was wrong. But Sam is just so…”
“I know.” You shook your head. “Look. I still kind of want to punch you in the face, but… as long as you promise to never try and contact us again… I’ll leave without giving you a black eye.”
Becky twitched like a nervous Chihuahua, but she nodded. “Right. Right, of course. Again, I’m sorry.”
Summary: Imagine being Sam’s 16 year old daughter and neither of you knowing you were. You travel alone since your mom died with your angel friend looking out for you; Castiel.
A/N: Hopefully if you guys want, this will be a series, the first one shot will mainly be based around Sam finding out. The others will be more angst and fluff with a twist of drama! x
Sam had no clue. Neither did Dean, neither did you. You were sixteen years of age and you were alone hunting. You only had one friend; he was an angel called Castiel. Your mother died only a few years ago and you’ve been on your own since fourteen. You had the letter she gave you, the one she told you she wanted you to open when you were ready. It had his name in it. Your father.
You had no idea who it was and she wanted to tell you. She said he wasn’t a bad man, a man who made mistakes, yes, but he wasn’t bad and he didn’t know you were even alive. She never ever wanted you to think he abandoned you, she wanted you to know that if he did know you; he would love you, and he would be proud.
There was only his first name and his last name on the paper. She scribbled it down and told you to open it when you were ready. But you were never ready. Plus, you didn’t need him, you were fine on your own.
You swung back your arm, machete in hand as you were ready to cut off the vamps head. A sharp pain jolted through your spine as you screamed. Black dots clouded your vision before it all finally turned black.
You dipped in and out of consciousness as you felt yourself being dragged across the rough floor, the cold floor scraping and scratching at your torn skin.
Before you could black out fully you closed your eyes and tried to block out the searing pain before trying to call out your friends name.
Castiel fluttered into the Winchester’s motel room before they could even comprehend what was going on. Dean jumped, startled as he placed a hand across his beating heart.
“Dammit, Cas. How many times have I told you to stop doing that’‘he groaned, slamming his wet hands onto the towel hanging next to him and washing his wet face.
Castiel shot him a sharp glare which fell unnoticed to Dean but not by the taller moose. Sam got up from his seat as he shut his laptop and walked over to his friend.
’'Cas, man. What’s wrong?’'Sam asked sweetly as he braced a comforting hand on his worried friends shoulder. Dean stopped as he came into the room and looked worriedly at his friend.
’'You alright man?’'He asked, watching him carefully as he looked for wounds. Castiel paced as he frowned deeply.
’'It is not me that is in danger’'he whispered, his voice husky and hoarse. The two brothers looked from one another before Dean stopped the pacing angel.
’'Cas, what’s going on. Talk to us’'Dean said slowly to try and calm down the angel who he had never seen so worried before. Cas stopped, blowing out a shaky breath as he turned to face the brothers.
’'You should probably sit down for this’'Castiel informed. The two brothers shared a look as they knew it couldn’t be good.
’'I’m good standing. So why don’t you just say what you gotta say, and we’ll try and figure it out, yeah’'Dean replied. Castiel glanced at Dean before looking at Sam.
’'it is not you that should be sitting down, Dean. It is Sam’'Castiel sighed. Sam’s brows shot up as he started to get anxious himself. Dean started to worry himself too, worrying for his brothers safety.
’'Sam is okay. As I said, it is not him who is in danger, but what I’m about to say may cause him some shock’'Castiel added when he saw Dean’s panic for his brothers safety.
’'C-Cas. Just tell me’'Sam whispered, his voice deepening as he tried to act calm and collected. Castiel nodded as he sighed, trying to figure out how he could ’'let him down easy” as people put it.
“There’s this girl-”
“Alright, Cas’'Dean whooped as he shut up the moment Cas glared hot holes into his head.
’'Not like that, she’s sixteen’'Castiel informed. Dean looked a bit embarrassed but shrugged as he let Cas continue. ’'I have been helping her as she hunts alone and does not have anyone to turn too. However, this morning I got a prayer from her, I believe she’s in danger’'Castiel mumbled, biting his lip in fear.
’'Don’t worry, man. Look, if she’s important to you, then she’s important to us. We’ll help’'Dean reassured as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. Sam nodded but frowned.
’'Cas, what does that have to do with me?’'Sam asked, confusion setting in. Cas let out a breath as he paced again slightly. He didn’t really want to say because he didn’t want to betray you, he had asked about your father hoping that you knew or wanted to, but when you said you didn’t want to, he left it alone. You just weren’t ready yet.
’'This girl is very important. Every monster, every supernatural being out there wants her because she is important. The first time I felt her presence was because she was nearby. Something about her soul felt familiar, too familiar. So I went to her and I knew then why she felt so familiar. I- on your behalf. Looked out for her, protected her. I am sorry, I did not tell you any of this sooner, Sam. She did not want to know’'Castiel whispered as he frowned at the deep betrayal he felt he had caused.
Sams brows furrowed as he shook his head. ’'Cas, you’re still not making sense. What does this have to do with me?’'He repeated growing slightly frustrated at the angel.
’'What did you mean on, Sam’s behalf?’'Dean asked wearily. Cas looked up as he stared at Sam.
’'She is important to every Supernatural being because she is a Winchester’'Castiel mumbled, hoping if he said it quiet enough he wouldn’t feel as guilty.
’'We’ve got a sister?’'Dean gasped, his heart racing. How many did his dad leave behind? Dean grew confused on why Cas thought it would only effect Sam. Dean seemed to be pretty effected. Sam too was shocked with the news.
’'No’'Castiel shook his head as he watched confusion rush over their faces. ’'Sam’'Cas said confidently, turning to the younger Winchester. ’'You have a daughter. And she is in trouble”
Sam stuttered, slowly falling back before Dean reached out and caught him.
“Whoa…big guy!’'Dean grunted as he helped his brother take the seat Castiel suggested he should have took in the first place. Sam’s face had paled, he felt slightly sick and confused and scared at the same time.
’'You’re sure about this, Cas?’'Dean asked as he looked at the face of his younger brother. ’'How do you know she isn’t a shapeshifter, or a demon?’'Dean asked protectively.
’'Because, the reason she felt familiar is because her and Sam’s souls are linked. They share the same blood and I already did all the tests. She passed every single one. I am an angel of the Lord, Dean. She is definitely Sam’s offspring’'Cas added.
Sam looked up after taking a deep breath. ’'How old did you say she was? Who’s her mother? Why is she a hunter? Who’s got her? Does she know who I am?-”
Dean cut off Sam as he tried to calm down his brother. Sam felt a weird feeling in his gut as he felt protective even though he didn’t even know you yet.
“I will answer all your questions, Sam but first we mus-’'Castiel stopped as his head lifted up, staring at the sky.
’'Wh-what? Is she okay? What’s wrong?’'Sam panicked as he stood up quickly. Dean watched with concerned eyes.
’'She is calling.’'He breathed out in relief as he vanished. Sam tried to grasp the angel but he was gone. He prayed and prayed for hours as he tried to ask the angel to take him with him so he could help.
Dean and Sam talked through it. Sam was pacing as Dean sat in his seat, rolling his knife between his fingertips. Dean glanced up at his younger brother.
’'You okay? You’ve had quite the shock’'Dean whispered. Dean too was unsure how he felt. He was thrilled he was an uncle but he was concerned about how his brother would react and wasn’t sure if pulling a kid into their world was good.
Sam stopped for a short while as he looked over at his brother. ’'I’m not sure. I-I mean, yeah it’s a shock but-I don’t know why, but I just felt the need to protect her, to keep her safe when Cas said she was in trouble. Is that weird, since I don’t even know her?’'Sam sighed, running a hand through his locks.
Dean smiled proudly as he shook his head. ’'Fathers instinct’'He chuckled. Sam flushed slightly as he sat down slowly next to Dean.
’’D-Do you…’'Sam trailed off as he looked sad all of a sudden. ’'Dean, what if I’m a lousy father. I’ve always wanted kids but not in this life. I swore I would never bring a child- my child into the hunting life. What if she gets hurt?”
“Sam, you’ll be a great father. You don’t need to rush, take it slow, get to know her. Sam she’s already in danger because she’s a Winchester, we can protect her and I know it seems like we’ll make it worse, but she’s already stuck now, you may as well get something good out of it and try and get to know her’'Dean smiled as he patted his brothers legs comfortingly.
Sam nodded, deep in thought when Castiel poofed into the room. Sam and Dean stood up abruptly as Sam went to swing a thousand questions at Castiel.
’'She is is the truck she owned. She’s hurt but she’s sleeping it off. Would you like to see her?’'Castiel asked as he smiled softly at the younger Winchester. Sam looked back and fourth to Cas and his brother as if asking permission off his brother.
Dean gave him a reassuring nod as he gently shoved his brother. ’'I’ll wait here but don’t think I ain’t getting a look at moose’s rugrat when he’s done’'Dean chuckled as he sat down.
Sam grabbed his jacket as he pulled it closer to him when they hit the chilly night air. His heart lept in his chest as Castiel brought him to the pick up truck you stole.
Castiel nodded towards the back of the pick up truck where a blanket was sprawled out. He glanced at Castiel nervously who gave him a smile and ushered him forward.
Sam rested his sweaty palms on the side of the truck as he peered inside. His mouth slightly fell agape as his eyes softened. You were curled up in a ball beneath the blanket that tangled around you. You looked exhausted and broken. Completely torn up and bruised as your dark, chocolate locks sprawled out around you.
Castiel smiled when he saw the look in Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes watered as he bit his lip to keep himself from getting emotional. He turned back to Castiel with a worried glance.
’'Is that warm enough for her? Isn’t she gonna get cold. Shouldn’t s-”.
Cas cut Sam off as he stood chuckled. “I will bring her in after, right now she just needs a few hours without being disturbed whatsoever. Sam nodded slowly as he turned back to face you. His eyes roamed over all your features and he realised how much you looked like him.
The door closed quietly as Dean stood next to his brother, shoving his cold fingers into his jacket pockets as he zipped up his coat and shook his leg to try and keep warm.
’'You know, for being your rugrat, she’s awfully small’'Dean chuckled. Sam laughed, his eyes watering as he looked at you in awe. He carefully extended his arm as he went to brush his fingertips against your cheek but stopped when he realised you’d probably wake up due to hunter reflexes.
’'It’s okay, Sam. She’s a heavy sleeper’'Castiel chuckled. Watching the two brothers from behind. Sam nodded, gulping as he carefully brushed his nimble fingers against your cheek. He smiled at how soft it was and grinned when you nuzzled your face into his palm.
’'She’s cute’'Sam chuckled as he carefully pulled the blanket up closer to you. Dean was on his tiptoes, peering closer over the edge as he gave a proud grin.
’'Get’s that from her Uncle Dean’'Dean grinned. Sam smiled at the term 'Uncle Dean’. Sam rolled his eyes anyway but a thousand questions ran through his head.
Would she call him Dad?
Would she be happy to see him?
Did she even want to see him?
Cas stepped forward as he carefully placed his hand on Sam’s arm and retreated it back. ’'I shall answer all your questions, Sam. You too, Dean. But first we should left her rest.’'Cas informed.
Sam was reluctant to go, scared of leaving you out there but Castiel promised he would know if anything in a mile radias even stepped over the line.
The three men made their way back to the motel room as they all sat down, getting ready to shoot a million questions at Cas.
He sat across from me, flicking the cigarettes ash onto the worn wood floor, letting it burn down to his bruised and bloody knuckles. Water was dripping from somewhere, a constant thump that was both quiet and loud, very similar to my own heartbeat. It reminded me that I was in fact still breathing, I am still alive. He finally takes a long drag off of his cigarette, blowing the smoke into my face. I don’t flinch, I don’t dare move. I stare into his eyes. They seem nice, they seem like the kind of eyes that belong to a good person, not a horrible one. They’re golden, with a twinkle in the center and the air of mischief. His eyes are like the earth. Mine are like the sky right before a storm. They’re hard and steely grey, filled with anger. Grey into brown. Sky transitioning into earth. We stay like that for a minute, caught in the silence like bugs in amber. The only disturbance is the water drip drip dripping onto the ground. I can see that it’s almost night through the broken walls that have ivy and plants infesting them, wrapping themselves around the wood boards and strangling. My leg is still wrapped in his t-shirt, the blood has only now started to seep onto the top layer of the white cloth. My hair is caked with mud and dirt and lacerations decorate my body like ornaments on a christmas tree. Suddenly, he break the silence and leans back in his chair, the wood creaking loudly.
“Who would’ve thought that the youngest one would be the depressed one?” He said, watching me.
I didn’t consider my next move. I didn’t think, I just did. I grabbed the knife on the table and threw it, twisting my wrist so that it spiraled right towards him. He caught it in the air with one hand and set it down.
“I’m not the depressed one. I’m the angry one.” I told him. I’m standing now, my feet planted shoulder width apart. My voice comes out as a low growl.
He considers me for a minute before whipping the knife back. I didn’t flinch as it grazed my shoulder and embedded itself in the wall behind me with a soft thump. I smirked.
“Is that all you got?” I said.
Before he could react and vaulted forward, my hands hitting the floor and my good leg springing out and kicking him in the stomach. He grabs my feet and yanks me forward onto my back. I hit the floor and cry out as he lands on top of me. He pins my legs down but I get one elbow out and smash it into his nose. He cries out and I grab the knife and roll on top of him, one knee planted on his stomach to keep him down, the other is on his right arm, his punching one. I use my other hand to hold down his head and keep a knife to his throat.
“Goddamn. You really are the angry one.” He said, the knife biting his skin.
A tiny red dot starts to appear.
“Let me up.”
“Fuck off.” I say.
He stares at me for a second and I begrudgingly shift off of him, holding the knife at arms length.
He stands and pulls me up, dusting me off.
He stares into my steel eyes and smiles.
“Are you ready?"
I stop. Am I? Part of me says no, that revenge won’t do anything. The other part, the stronger part, says yes. I am ready. Ready to kill the people who took my sister. Would she want this? No. She would want me to stop. But I don’t care anymore.
Because I’m stubborn and I need them to talk about this.
“What happened to you ‘n’ Tyreese on the road, before Terminus?”
His voice was a low rasp as he gently wound the bandage around her forearm after cleaning the long knife cut she’d incurred during the fight against the Saviors. Thankfully, the armor she’d been issued by the Kingdom people had protected her from any major injuries, but he needed to be sure that this was well taken care of before they did anything else. His large, square hands and plump fingers were, as always, amazingly gentle as he worked on her. Between his careful, light touches and the painkiller he’d insisted she take as soon as he’d seen that she’d been hurt, the wound didn’t bother her at all.
It was his question that was bothering her.
How did he know what time to focus on? Surely Tyreese himself hadn’t told Daryl anything before his death, when he had been the one to extract a promise of silence from her?
She tried to distract Daryl by fumbling with her blouse sleeve, and as she’d hoped, he helped her with rolling it down over her arm again, careful to avoid the cut under the dressing.
But this was Daryl, and she should have known better, she thought with chagrin as he looked up at her through his sweaty bangs after buttoning her sleeve around her wrist.
He didn’t even have to repeat his question - his eyes were doing his talking for him, as they so often did.
Carol felt heat rising up her neck and into her cheeks and ears, and her breath started coming in short gasps as she allowed her mind to go back to the pecan grove for just a heartbeat, remembering Lizzie with the knife in her hand, dripping with her younger sister’s blood, that completely detached look in her eyes as she talked about gathering flowers so Mika would be able to enjoy them when she “came back”.
The pain knifed through Carol’s heart, rolling and cresting inside her like a wave, robbing her of the air in her lungs as her guilt over Mika’s death overwhelmed her yet once more. Another girl she hadn’t been able to save. Had there been any warning signs that she had overlooked or, worse, ignored? Would there have been anything, anything at all, that she could have done to prevent this tragedy?
“‘s about the girls, right?”
There was no blame in his voice, only concern.
But there was pain in his eyes. Ever since their search for B*th in Atlanta, when she had told him it had been “worse than that”, he had known that this was a highly sensitive subject for her, and until today, he had avoided putting any pressure on her about this - first because she had been unwilling to talk about it for some reason, maybe to avoid the pain of this particular loss, and later because he’d waited for her to come to him by choice once she felt ready.
“Why are you asking me this? Why now?”
He seemed to withdraw into himself at her question. His teeth started worrying the inside of his cheek and lower lip, and at the same time he started nibbling on the skin around his fingernails. He also ran his right thumb over a cigarette burn on his left hand, at the root of his thumb, once, twice, before taking a deep breath that sounded as if he’d been suffocating.
“Something changed in you out there. Something … broke.”
She’d felt him searching for the right word, and his choice sounded right to her. Something inside her had broken over the death of the girls, and she wasn’t certain that it would ever heal again.
“There was … Rick sending you away, and I’m guessing that plays a part in it, too. And then something happened with the girls, and that was … kinda the final straw, and something … broke, and it hasn’t mended yet.”
She wondered if he had ever had a chance to read her farewell letter that she’d written before leaving Alexandria, or if he just knew, the way he seemed to know her inside and out, that Rick sending her away, saying nobody would want her at the prison anymore, had been the first crack in her armor. She guessed it was probably the latter. What with all that had happened at that time, he might never have had the time to even ask if she had left a note behind or if she’d just left.
Daryl getting shot, and taken, and kept in a cell, and tortured.
Her heart ached. Daryl hadn’t talked about this yet, and she wondered if he ever would. So far, the only one who had told her about this was Morgan.
“Whatever happened with the girls, ‘m sure you did what you could to protect them. You’re brave, and strong, and you’re capable. There’s nothing anyone coulda done about it, if they died even though you were there.”
There was no question in his voice, no probing. He still wasn’t trying to get her to talk about it. What she heard in his voice was confidence and trust in her, the conviction that, just like him, she would do anything, always, to protect those depending on her for their safety.
His words stung, the memories straining to escape, and tears welled behind her closed eyelids. What had she done to earn such unconditional trust? And from someone who found it so hard to put his trust in anyone but himself?
“And ya saved Judith.”
Carol felt Daryl’s eyes on her like a physical touch now, and his concern for her like a warm blanket. His deep and, yes, loving care for her somehow increased the pressure on the bubble in which she had locked away the events at the grove and the guilt and pain from them, and she felt her defenses failing.
The final straw, the thing that undid her in the end, was his arm slowly coming up around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, his other hand cradling her head the way he had after Terminus, and at the Saviour compound, and on the porch of her little house on the periphery of the Kingdom. He knew now, yet he still held her in his arms, and it was this that pushed her over the edge.
His body heat, his scent under the stench of gunpowder and blood, the touch of his hand on her skin, all increased that ache inside her until the bubble finally burst, releasing its toxic load of pain and grief and horror, and she started weeping against his shoulder, not in loud sobs but without a sound, without moving. It felt as if the debilitating sorrow she had been carrying ever since the day Lizzie had killed Mika and she’d been forced to shoot Lizzie in order to protect Judith and Ty and herself against the girl’s dangerous delusions were draining through her eyes with this steady, slow stream of hot tears.
Gradually, the pressure on her soul lessened.
Without a word, Daryl just kept holding her, one arm around her shoulders, one hand against the back of her head, until she drew a shuddering breath, sucking in air as if he’d just pulled her from an ocean. Resting in his embrace, emotionally exhausted even more than she’d been physically exhausted after the battle, she raised one hand to wipe her sticky face.
“Lizzie was … sick. She was sick even before the Turn, and with all that happened, and Woodbury and the prison falling, there was no way anymore of helping her. She was a sick little girl that believed walkers are people, in a world that isn’t suitable for sick little girls, and she …”
His voice, a steady anchor, low, dark, tender.
“Ya don’t have to -”
But she did. Suddenly, she did have to.
“Lizzie killed Mika.”
She felt him stiffening against her in shock, even as her mind conjured up that horrible image again of Lizzie, her hand and knife dripping with her sister’s blood, smiling at her and Ty, confident that Mika would return and still be herself, but safe from the walkers roaming the Earth.
For a minute, neither of them moved or spoke, and she imagined the disgust on Daryl’s face. Then, audibly shaken but still confident in what he was saying, Daryl’s gruff voice again.
“Ya had to do it. You had Judith to think of. Tyreese couldn’ta done it - he was strugglin’ to put down walkers.”
Hardly able to believe her own ears, she felt his head moving, and then he was resting it against her shoulder, a gesture of absolute trust and comfort. His arm tightened around her, holding her close.
He wasn’t letting go of her, wasn’t retreating, face a mask of horror, pushing her away. He was moving in closer.
“There was nothin’ else you coulda done and still protect Judith and the two of you.”
Somehow he knew, but still no blame. No questioning of her choices. An eternity passed. He seemed to brace himself before speaking again.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, that you had to … I know what they meant to you, after -”
Was he saying that he would have done it, had he been there with her?
Daryl, unaware of the fact that she was watching him, gently placing the body of the walker, wrapped in a white sheet, into the fire roaring in front of him before stepping back and watching it burn, as if attending a funeral.
Yes, he would have done it to spare me. He would have killed Lizzie to spare me.
The fearful tension that had been gripping her snapped.
“So … you don’t think that I’m a … monster?”
Her voice was so soft that nobody but him, wrapped around her protectively, could have heard her.
Then again, she didn’t need an answer from anyone but him. He was the only one who counted, the only one for whose verdict she cared.
He didn’t answer at once, or lightly. He was fully aware of the importance of his answer, and the impact it would have on her.
“Nah. You are a mother who protected a helpless child, the only way you could. You were the only one she had.”
His hand moved on the back of her head, and she braced for him letting go of her - but instead, this hand moved from her head to her back as well, and she felt his warm breath on her skin.
“You’re the most caring, loving person I know. You only kill to protect. You could never be a monster.”
And now he did let go of her, rose from the curbstone, knees creaking, and reached down to pull her up.
“C’mere, let’s find ourselves a place to sleep. Let someone else take watch for once.”
Still holding her hand, he set out to find a house for them to live in.
◇ In which Johnny gets the best Christmas present ever thanks to Winwin’s obsession with ice cream.
◇ Johnny x reader
◇ oh yeah a werewolf au B) also can you sense my desperation for christmas?? the request said nothing about chrismtas but im desperate and impatient so have some winter in august!!
Johnny was a sweet guy, really. He helped old ladies across the street, bought ice cream for a kid who just dropped their cone, didn’t punch Donghyuk after his last prank - all in all, Johnny Seo was a nice guy, and everyone knew it.
But if these grandmothers kept pestering him about finding his mate, he was going to lose it. “Why are you taking so long?” One frowned, leaning back in her chair, “I’ve lived for 300 years and I’ve had a mate for 287 of them.”
“You’re getting older now, Johnny,” another one chastises, shaking her head at him, “It’s time to settle down.”
Johnny bites his tongue, refraining from telling his elders that 1, he’s only twenty one, and that 2, he wants to find his mate as much as they want him to. Do they honestly think that he’s avoiding you on purpose? Hell no, Johnny would swim across the icy ocean right this minute to find you, and once he did, he promised that he would pick you up and give you the best kiss you’d ever experienced.
Ten must see the irritable look in his eyes, because he’s quick to appear at Johnny’s side, an award winning smile on his face that quickly averts the elders attention from Johnny to Ten. Shooting Johnny a look that clearly says ‘get out of here’, he turns to older women, beginning a story from the top of his head. “Did I tell you about how Doyoung and I once-”
Johnny takes the hint well, and leaves. His blood is boiling and his frustration has reached the roof. Why can’t anybody see how hard he’s trying to search for his mate? Is he not looking hard enough? Is that why those grandmothers blamed him for not finding you?
He can only groan, leaning his head against the doorway of the kitchen. It was too bad that pack get-togethers were mandatory, because otherwise he’d be halfway home by now. He shuts his eyes, sighing deeply and hoping that it will shut out the chattering from the large living room.
A soft chuckle catches his attention - one eye peeking open, he can’t help but smile at the sight of his mother, a bowl of food in her hands and raised eyebrows. “What do you think you’re doing?” She asks, setting a hand on her hip.
Johnny shrugs, moving away from the doorway. “Nothing much. Not like there’s anything to do here.”
“All your friends are here,” she replies, as if that would completely solve his boredom.
“All my friends are here with their mates,” Johnny groans, throwing his head back and missing the pitiful look his mother throws him. “The next time I hear Hansol say something cheesy I’m gonna stab myself with a silver knife-”
“Hilarious,” his mother rolls her eyes sarcastically, holding out the bowl to him. “Well, make yourself useful and put this on the table, will you?” It sounds like a request but Johnny knows better - even at twenty one years old he doesn’t dare disobey his mother.
Reluctantly, but slightly glad for a distraction to his boredom, he takes the silver bowl, turning on his heels and setting off towards the kitchen table. As usual, Jaehyun is there, without his mate this time, critiquing the food and putting almost everything onto one plate. “If you eat so much, your fur will start to shed,” Johnny teases just for the fun of it, watching as Jaehyun narrows his eyes, a sarcastic laugh coming from him.
Johnny sets the bowl onto the table, before turning to talk to Jaehyun - only to see that his friend was back at his mate’s side, laughing brightly and looking at them lovingly. Johnny sighs, turning away from the sight. Was he cursed to be mateless forever?
It’s a few months later and Johnny has had no luck whatsoever with finding you. He’s tried to let destiny do it’s thing, to let everything play out, but he had quickly grown impatient. What would it take to find you?
“I’m telling you, hyung,” Mark declares one day, “It’s best that you get out of this slump and start dating. Your mate won’t be angry, promis-”
The idea of dating sounds almost… offensive. Imagine knowing that somewhere out there, there’s a person who’s destined to be the love of your life. A person who’s perfect for you. Now imagine completely disregarding that fact and dating random people anyway - getting involved with them, falling in love with them… Do you see the problem?
“I’m not dating,” Johnny says firmly, making the younger boy groan. “Shut up - why’s this such a big deal to you anyway?”
Mark looks sheepish for a second, biting his lip and lowering his face to sip at his hot chocolate, “Well… we’ve noticed that you’ve been kinda down in the dumps lately, and so we just though that… maybe, you’d be a bit happier if we-”
“Set me up?” Johnny concludes, unimpressed but at the same time glad that his friends cared so much about him. Mark stutters to find an answer, but Johnny stops him with a chuckle. “Whatever, it’s fine. Just don’t try it again, right? I’m not dating, and that’s final.”
Mark lets out another groan but he shuts up and goes back to drinking his hot drink. Sighing, Johnny leans back in his seat. The cafe was stiffling warm, and with the heat of a werewolf, he was definitely getting too warm. “When will Taeyong and Jaehyun be here?”
The younger shrugs, too focused on his drink to answer. “Yah, answer your elders,” Johnny chastises jokingly, pushing him on the shoulder gently.
Mark is about to retort, but the bell above the cafe’s door rings and the boy’s heads snap towards the sound. As expected, in stride Taeyong and Jaehyun, smiles on their faces, not bothered one bit by the fact that they were 10 minutes late. Letting out a sigh of relief, Mark downs the rest of his steaming drink - wincing in the process -, and scampers to meet his hyungs.
Johnny shakes his head with a fond laugh, but he follows him anyway. And so, the Christmas shopping begins.
“Winwin wants ice cream for Christmas?” Mark is asking incredulously from in front of Johnny. Taeyong nods distractedly, rifling through the presents he’s already bought and muttering under his breath. He only looks up, a glare on his face, when Mark chortles, “How has your mate not gotten fat already?”
“Shut up, please,” he replies dryly, before turning to Johnny. “Can you guys please get the ice cream Winwin wants? It’s from that little shop down the road, you know the really fancy one-”
“Shouldn’t you be getting your own mate’s presents?” Johnny comments, but he accepts the money Taeyong passes to him anyway. Taeyong is rolling his eyes now. “Jaehyun and I are gonna go to the jewelry store to shop for something.”
“Finally doing it, hm?” Johnny asks, raising his eyebrows. “I’m happy for you guys.” A blush actually spreads against Taeyong’s normally cool and calm face, and he quickly thanks Johnny in embarrassment, before he takes a deep breath to calm himself.
“There’s a wolf that works there, her name is ______ . I placed an order with her a few weeks ago-” Taeyong glances in annoyance at Mark, who’s made a comment about how serious Taeyong is about getting Winwin’s presents - “Just ask for her and give her the money. I’m counting on you to not mess this up, Johnny.”
“How low do you think of me?” Johnny asks cheekily, before he’s towing Mark along, through the snow covered bustling streets that are covered in a soft golden glow from the various street lights and shop displays.
Heavenly Bites is a small shop located just off of the main street. It’s cked out in warm colours, like reds and golds and yellows, and it seems to be a popular place for people to buy gifts, judging by the large crowd that just exited the shop.
The moment Johnny and Mark set foot in the shop, they’re bombarded by numerous smells - sweet chocolates, delectable toffees and cold ice creams, among with the gentle chatter from outside. Apart from an old couple, Johnny and Mark are the only people in the shop - though Mark is quick to scatter off, babbling about getting some chocolate to share with Haechan and Jeno.
That leaves Johnny by himself. Heaving a sigh, he waltzes up to the cash register that’s currently empty. He leans against the wooden counter top, tapping his finger as he waits for someone to come from the back of the shop.
“Can I help you?” The voice is sweet and helpful, but Johnny barely looks up from where he’s staring at the menu when he answers.
“Uh, I’m looking for _____ - I’m picking up an order for Lee Taeyong…?” He finally looks up, and he can’t help but trail off and become speechless as he finally makes eye contact with you. Pupils dilating, he seems to be thrown into another world, scenes playing out before his eyes.
You, spinning around with a smile on your face, stumbling into his arms while he glances down at you lovingly. Him, kneeling down on one knee and watching as your eyes fill up with tears of happiness and elation. Him, standing behind you, a hand on your protruding stomach-
It’s gone before he can register it. He’s left back in reality, eyebrows furrowed and eyes completely fixated on you. He - you - you were his mate.
“Oh, my God,” he hears you whisper, a hand coming up to your mouth. Then, there’s a squeak of happiness, and you’re running around the cash register to hug him. Reacting quickly, he winds his arms around your waist, completely beaming as he feels you burrow your head in the crook of his neck.
“I’m ______ ,” you breathe, pulling back with such a cute smile on your face that Johnny finds it hard to breathe.
“Johnny,” he murmurs back, not being able to hold back the laugh bubbling in his chest. “I can’t believe I’ve finally found you.” Your laughs are disbelieving but you’re unbelievably happy.
“I’ve been looking for you for ages,” you explain. His arms are still around you but you honestly don’t want him to let go, so you say nothing - if anything, you bury yourself further into his embrace. “This is so surreal…”
Johnny’s so caught up with taking in you - your image, your voice, your smile, your laugh - everything, when he suddenly realises something. “I - I kinda have a promise to keep,” he bites his lip, a cheeky smile blooming on his face at the confusion painted over yours. “I only have on question - can I kiss you?”
And, as he promised himself earlier, he takes you in his arms and gives you the best kiss you’d ever had. The best Christmas present ever.